Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Micah Castro Braden // Doctor Watson, I presume (acatalyst) wrote in bellumlogs,

Micah was on his way to work, as evidenced by the blue scrubs he was wearing with a gray thermal shirt and a long-sleeved white shirt beneath. He'd topped it all off with a gray knit cap. It was still cold, despite what the weather bureau said, and he'd spent at least five minutes chastising the weatherman in Spanish this morning.

His nametag was clipped at his hip, Micah B., and it clearly announced that he worked for the County Coroner's Office.

He had meant to take the stairs, but when he saw the strange man petting the elevator buttons, he stopped. It wasn't much of a mystery, he supposed, but sometimes you have to start small. Plus, he'd given himself plenty of spare time to get to work.

He was 6'3, and in as many layers as he was wearing, he looked broader than he was (though he wasn't dainty by any stretch of the imagination), and he walked up behind the man on whisper-silent Crocs.

"That might be illegal. Did you ask the buttons if they were interested in you first?"